Thanksgiving casserole; much like life

Our Thanksgiving holiday started on Wednesday with my company's holiday meal at a Japanese steakhouse in Melbourne, FL, about 45 miles north.

Ex accompanied me, and although he didn't hear much and he didn't know anyone, the food was good and cook was entertaining, despite the unappetizing spindle of a tooth he sported as he twirled knives, grilling tools and squirt-bottles of steamy sauces on the grill.

The boss gave us each a fresh pie to take home for our own Thanksgiving Day dinners -- we got cherry. From the moment we received the pie until the moment we served it, Ex kept saying he wished he could taste it from the smell!

I woke up early Wednesday, and the house was STILL unmiraculously unclean. Hubby was already on the way down from VA to FL -- an 800-mile journey. Ex and I had that luncheon to attend and I had a million things to do. As it turned out, we had to leave for the luncheon leaving about 999,999 things undone.

We got home and I finally got started cleaning. Hubby got tangled in some traffic which caused an hour delay just before our exit, but we were able to warn our son so he could use US1 instead of I-95, which had a 80-mile backup from Cocoa Beach south.

Ex was feeling pretty good, excited about all the people that were coming to visit and his birthday, which was also on Thursday.

FINALLY, my husband arrived. It was so odd to see him here. Like seeing your First Grade teacher at the grocery... know what I mean? But that feeling passed quickly and Hubby was warmly greeted by the Ex.

"Thank you for loaning me your wife," Ex whispers with tears in his eyes, shaking Hubby's hand. "It's okay," Hubby says. "We are glad we can help, and she has enough love for both of us."

Before Hubby left VA, I asked him to stop at one of our favorite goody stores and pick up some pecan meat. I'd seen some there, and wanted to duplicate a spread my folks made with pecans and green olives.

Dutiful husband goes to the store and asks for "pecan meat," and they just about laugh him out of the store.

"Pecan meat? We don't have that, but we do have pecan MEAL." Of course, that's what I meant, but I've been teased about "pecan meat" since last week.

Between cooking tasks Wednesday night and Thursday morning, Hubby and I cleaned and decluttered what I had planned for our eating area. This frenzy of activity scared up a few undernourished lizards -- or camillians, if you prefer -- who had slipped into the Ex's house under the door to the back yard. They always make me go EEEEK! But I never kill them. (Too gross).

Hubby joined me, and we two lizard herders worked together to get the silly things who ran from us as we tried to save their skinny, little reptilian hides. We managed to save those two, but we found several more, eternally sleeping in their skeletons, already long gone to Lizard Heaven.

I left Hubby to mopping Ex's expansive tile floor, and decided to work on homemade cranberry sauce, which I discovered is very easy. Just a small bag of cranberries, a cup of sugar, and a cup of water. Boil until the skins split and the liquid turns red and bubbly, then cool and refrigerate.

Sounds simple enough, and it would have been, had I not discovered that all of Ex's sugar is in packets. I had to empty about 4,000 packets to make up a cup, but after some trial and error, I developed a packet-shearing technique and got 'er done. And the C-sauce was quite tasty and more than worth the trouble.

At the crack of noon on Thanksgiving, Ex sends Son out for two dozen assorted donuts. Two dozen?! For FOUR people? We all know donuts are poison. YOU tell the Ex he can't have two dozen assorted donuts, because none of us will. :-) So off went the Son, and there are still a dozen stale donuts on top of the microwave. Yum!

As our driveway is rather hidden from the major thoroughfare on which it sits, we erected one of those inflatable novelties -- an 8-foot University of Florida Gator -- to mark the driveway. We drug the lifeless, tent-like form to the edge of the driveway, and before we even had it erected people were driving by and honking in support of the Gators.

This honking continued from the time we blew it up until the time we'd deflate it at bedtime. It seemed a shame to take it down earlier, since it had lights inside and all, but we were sure the honking would keep us all awake.

We left the Gator up on Sunday in celebration of the Gator's win against FSU, but I finally brought it in after everyone had gone home Sunday night. It was a little sad. I couldn't bear to put him back i the box, so Flat Albert the Alligator is sitting on one of the lawn chairs in the carport. He can stay there until next weekend when Florida plays Alabama for the SEC Championship.

The ridiculous-but-loveable Gator was a gift to the Ex from one of the Ex's crazy friend's sisters years ago, but it had never been out of the box before Hubby and I set it up Thursday morning. The sisters were quite touched at the sentiment, and everyone was happy to have a mark to find the driveway!

So, it was fun setting up the Gator, but we had another 999,998 tasks remaining. Among them, setting up the dining area. Now, in my family, the Blessing is always said with everyone sitting at their places at the table, plates full of food. This is what I envisioned, but this is not how it turned out.

It was nice outside, and some people wanted to eat outside. And there was also football, and some wanted to eat while watching the games. So my sitting-down idea was vetoed, but I really didn't mind.

Instead, we formed a prayer circle, near the tables I set up for sitting. The dog I own with my husband, an 80,000-lb. bull terrier, likes to be in the middle of things, so she positioned herself inside the circle.

One of our guests said a lovely blessing, adding parts about Eternal Salvation just for you-know-who. I cried all the way through it.

But, when the Blessing was done, and we'd all said "Amen," we all looked down to see our bully, fully stretched out on one side, fast asleep.

Someone says, "Thank you for the Blessing, it was beautiful." And someone else says, "Yeh, but it might've run a little long because, LOOK! You put the dog to sleep!" I was glad for this, as it made my tears appear to be tears of laughter, and i was thankful for the distraction. We have photos of the dog sleeping as the circle disbanded. I might just post them one of these days.

As our son was dressing for dinner, he told me he looked at his computer, only to discover that his computer's screen saver had changed to a video demo, and he was quite shocked to see his own naked self in his own private video. That was pretty funny. We laughed alot about that.

One of the sisters was particularly smitten by a deviled egg plate I had dusted off from The Ex's collection of stuff he inherited from his parents. Later, he decided to give it to her, and she was so touched, she cried. Then, she left without the plate! But that's okay. Now we can send it properly as a gift with a card from the Ex.

Friday and Saturday went well. Hubby and I got a couple of chances to go out alone while Son and Ex stayed together, grocery shopping or watching tv.

Hubby and I just took drives along the ocean and the Indian River, and we visited only one of the many friends we have here. Our destinations were not important. It was just being together that fed our souls and helped us both feel whole again, if only for a time.

Hubby left early Sunday morning, leaving Ex, Son and me alone. Ex wasn't feeling all that well, but he had enough energy to run some errands Sunday morning. Unfortunately, Son slept late, and by the time we finally got to the errands, it was almost time for a football game the Ex didn't want to miss, and within an hour of returning home, Ex was spent, all out of steam, and once again watching tv with his eyes closed.

At first, Son was annoyed at being awakened, but I think now he has a better understanding of his father's schedule of sharpness -- always good until about noon, then downhill from there.

By evening, Ex was barely with us, nodding in and out. Son kept trying to get his Dad's attention for this or that, but Ex just wasn't up to it.

At one point, Son broke down and ran to his room, crying into his pillow, "I MISS MY DAD! I WANT MY DAD BACK!!" I tried to explain that he needs to wake earlier if he wants to be with his Dad, but I also tried to comfort him, because it's true -- his Dad, as he once was, is gone forever.

Today, I cut way back on the Ex's pain meds (Ex had been medicating himself yesterday, and it would appear that he may have over-done it), made sure he stayed on the Decadron, and I even gave him an Exedrin and told him it was Valium. It was just a little white lie, and Ex has been alert and much more himself today.

Tomorrow, we start chemo again. One 30-minute infusion, once a week, indefinitely. Don't know how it will work for him, or how it will affect him. We'll just have to wait and see.

Tonight, I made a casserole of all our Thanksgiving leftovers. Gourmet dressing on the bottom, a layer of choice turkey pieces, a layer of peas that pop in your mouth, and a layer of fluffy mashed potatoes on top. I made more gravy and served it all with the leftover cranberry sauce. It was truly tasty; like having Thanksgiving all over again -- minus all the people and the chaos.

Then, I started thinking, our lives could be very much like a leftover Thanksgiving casserole. Every day, we should all take the best of the best of our memories, arrange them in layers, warm them with love, share them with dear friends and family, and savor them forever.

Come Christmas, Hubby will be back again. I can hardly wait. In the meantime, Ex and I will work on treatment and making the most of every day, and maybe have a little taste of our love and memory casserole every chance we get.